


Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end

by poeticeclipse



Category: The Office (US)
Genre: Hopeful friendship, Hurt/Comfort, tentative friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:28:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24995380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poeticeclipse/pseuds/poeticeclipse
Summary: On casino night Pam leaves after Jim's confession and he has to deal.
Relationships: Jim Halpert/Dwight Schrute
Comments: 18
Kudos: 85





	1. Chapter 1

  
Tripping and stumbling over his feet Jim falls into a bar stool and orders a beer. His hands shake as he scrubs them up and down his face muttering curses at himself.

Dwight cuts his eyes at him. "What's your problem?" He asks around a mouthful of cocktail peanuts.

Leaning his head against the sticky bar top he mumbles into his arms. "You ever misinterpret a friendship so bad you consider leaving town?"

Dwight quirks an eyebrow. "No," he says flatly. "Just how much have you had to drink anyway?" He asks turning back to his peanuts.

Jim lifts his head. "I," he slurs, raising a finger. "Am not drunk," he points, falling against the bar rattling the bowls of nuts.

"Yeah. I'm over here." Dwight says gripping his shoulder to keep him from toppling to the floor. 

"He's had enough," he informs the bar tender when he comes around.

"Man, you're not my mom." Jim all but whines.

"Come on, Jim. Don't make a fool of yourself." He sighs. "Let me take you home."

"That's what she said." He jokes then looks like he might actually cry.

Dwight sighs yet again.   
This is going to be a long night.

He gets him by the arm and they stagger to the exit.

"This way," Dwight murmurs. Guiding Jim's shivering form to his car.

He flips the heat on. "Address?"

Still slurring Jim gives it to him, then turns to rest his head against the window.

"If you need to expel anything let me know so I can pull over."

"Whatever," Jim mutters closing his eyes.

"Jim."

Someone roughly shaking his arm.

"What?" He complains, curling into himself.

"You're home. Kindly get out of my vehicle."

He swings his legs from the car and promptly topples to the drive.

"Seriously." Dwight looks up at the stars, pinching between his eyes.

"I'm good. Thanks for the ride." Jim says into the grass.

He rolls his eyes. "This whole display is really rather pathetic, Jim. You realize that."

"Don't care." He rubs his cheek against the ground. 

"Oh, for the love of- 

He yanks him to his feet and they stumble for the door. 

"Keys."

He manages to pull them from his pocket after several attempts and drops them on the step. 

"Whoops."

"Just stay there." Dwight says tiredly, helping him lean against the door frame.

Inspecting the key ring he locates Jim's house key quickly and lets them inside.

All the lights are out and it takes him several minutes to locate a switch. Jim being no help.

Bumbling to the sofa Jim collapses while Dwight rummages the kitchen for a glass of water and some aspirin.

"Here," he says sitting them on the coffee table. 

Jim stares at the ceiling forlornly.

"So, you embarrassed yourself in front of a colleague. Big deal."

"You don't understand. I can never show my face in the office again."

"You're a dramatic drunk, you know that?" 

"No, I'm not," he whispers brokenly, turning to face the wall.

Dwight sighs, hesitantly patting his shoulder. "You'll be alright, Jim. You just need to sleep it off."

"Mm," he murmurs unconvinced. "Thanks," he says after a minute. "For, you know, bringing me home and all." He yawns 

"Sure." He stands slowly. "Goodnight, Jim." 

"Night," he slurs.

Jim's question comes back to him as he closes his car door.

_"You ever misinterpret a friendship?"_

He sighs sadly. That would require there being a friendship in the first place, he thinks, turning the key and driving away.


	2. Chapter 2

Jim wakes the next morning with his face smooshed in the couch cushion and his mouth dry as a desert.

He licks his lips groaning and rolls over to stare up at the ceiling through cracked lids trying to piece together the events of last night.

Oh, right. Pam...

He swallows against the bitter taste in his mouth, pressing his fingers firmly against his lids.  
"Idiot," he moans.

The doorbell ringing sends a spike through his head causing him to jump. 

Blearily he rolls off the couch.  
Kneading his temple he staggers for the door ripping it open, wincing against the sunlight. 

Dwight stands there cocking an eyebrow. "Headache?"

Jim glares at him in a-you should know- way, but there's no real heat in it.

"What are you doing here." 

"Thought you could use a ride considering your car's still at the office."

He hadn't really planned on going in today, hadn't really planned on ever going back but... he bites his lip. Is running really going to solve anything?

Dwight wrinkles his nose. "You should shower."

"Get out," he groans

"I'm not in, therefore, I can't 'get out'," he brushes past him. "Now. I'm in."

"Dwight, go away," Jim moans running a hand through his tangled hair.

"I hope your eggs are fresh," he wanders to the kitchen. 

Jim slams the door.   
Instantly regretting it as his head pounds.

"Well, that was smart."

"What are you doing?" He groans laying his head on the counter. 

"Hangover remedy. Bare in mind it smells awful and taste worse but nine out of ten Schrutes reccomend."

"Oh my God."

"Are you gonna go wash that grease trap you call hair?" He glances at him disdainfully. 

"Yes, mother." He rolls his eyes taking a couple of painkillers. "Why you being so... 'nice', anyway? With the rides and all."

"Reveling in the misery of your adversary is not 'nice'."

"Well fixing them breakfast isn't exactly cutthroat either," Jim rebuts dryly, massaging his eyes.

"It isn't breakfast and it tastes deplorable."

"Yes, you warned me of that," Jim taunts, rolling away from the counter to saunter down the hall for a shower.

Undressing, he turns the shower knob all the way till steam billows from the top of the shower curtain filling the room.  
Dwight turning up on his doorstep had been a distraction but now as he stands under the steady stream his mind wanders back to last night when he made such a complete idiot of himself.   
What was he thinking? He had been single, well, mostly single, the whole time he's worked for Dunder Mifflin. If Pam had ever thought of him as more than a friend she could have made a move.

Of all the timing.  
The save the date card still sits fresh in his trash.  
He scrubs his face and reaches for the shampoo.

He's not sure what to do.  
He'd like to run. Move. Take the job in Connecticut.   
But Pam will still marry Roy, and he'll lose a friend.  
His chest tightens around a cold, hard, ache.   
It would be hell seeing them married.   
It would be hell leaving too, and in some twisted way it seems petty to leave because she doesn't share his feelings.  
Or maybe its healthy. For his mental state? He sighs turning off the now cold water and towling off 

"There you are. What took you so long? You obviously don't care about water conservation."

"Sure I do. I've used the same bath water for six years now. A little scummy around the edges but I am saving the planet."

Dwight studies him for a minute.   
"That's disgusting. You should invest in a filtration system."

"I'll think about it." He rolls his eyes.

"Here," Dwight slides a glass across the counter. "You still look awful."

"Dawn really doesn't suit me. You should see me in moonlight." He takes a swig gagging.

"I have and it was equally pathetic."

"Sweet talker. Okay, I have to ask, what's in this?" He sniffs the cup tentatively.

"Secret family recipe. It dies with us."

He expected as much.

"Hurry up. I've never once been late in my life. I was even born precisely on time, when the rooster crowed his last crow before keeling over just as Nonnie had predicted, I was thrust into the world from my mother's loins."

"Please, man. I'm trying to keep this stuff down." He shivers, chugging the last of the vile concoction hoping his head will stop pounding by the time they reach the office. He takes a deep breath. He's really doing this he guesses.

"Stop squirming, its obnoxious."

"Sorry," Jim mutters distracted, shifting in the bucket seat of Dwight's TransAm.

He casts him a curious glance. Jim 'apologizing'? That never happens.  
"So, who'd you embarrass yourself in front of last night that's got you so weird?"

"Doesn't matter," he sighs looking out the window.

Dwight decides he doesn't much like depressed Jim.

He sees her car and his heart sinks, a bitter taste rising in his mouth, he blinks against the burning wishing he were still at home under the covers.  
Dwight stares at him peculiarly.  
"You just going to stand there admiring the parking lot?" He questions.  
Jim shrugs.  
"C'mon, Jim man up and face it.  
"Yeah," he mumbles forcing himself to follow Dwight inside.

"Dunder Mifflin, this is Pam."

Their eyes lock for an instant and it's awkward.   
Oh God it's awkward.  
He quickly looks away, pulling his desk chair out.   
It creaks beneath him and he feels like screaming along with it.

"Jimbo!" Michael greets loudly making him cringe.

"Good morning, Michael."

"So, you did pretty well for yourself last night."

Jim blinks. "What?"

"Poker. You cleaned up pretty well."

"Oh. Yeah, yeah it was ...fun" he trails off.

Michael pats his shoulder on his way to his office. 

Jim picks up the phone very carefully not looking at Pam. 

"Hey."

"Hey," Jim murmurs. Refreshing the screen on his browser. Not really even sure what he's looking at. 

"Please stop ignoring me. I can't stand it." Pam whispers leaning against his desk.

"I'm not ignoring you," he says, thumbing the edge of his mouse pad.

"Jim."

He finally glances up. "What do you want me to say, Beesley?"

"I want you to say you're still my friend."

He sighs rubbing his eyes. "Of course you're my friend," he says quietly.   
"It's just, look, I put myself on the line there and I know I made things weird I just, guess I need a little space to get over...

"Me?"

He looks away.

Dwight is staring at him from across the desk where he's just reclaimed his seat after talking to Michael. Mouth slightly ajar looking like he's just had an epiphany 

Jim looks down in shame.

Lunch comes and Jim takes a deep breath dropping into his usual seat.   
He can smile and make small talk... He thinks.

He hesitantly scans the room.  
Dwight cuts in front of Pam, sitting across from him.  
He drops his tupperware lunch to the table with a clatter.  
"True or false, the biggest beet in the world was 156 pounds?" 

He blinks at him. "Um... true?"

"False! It was over."

"Wow," Jim drawls slowly, not really sure what to make of this conversation.

"Mose and I will beat that record of course."

"I'm sure you will."

"Thank you. anyway...

Roy comes up after work to walk Pam to her car and... Psh. it doesn't hurt. Jim's fingers clench around the computer mouse. Nope. It doesn't hurt.

Dwight looks from the door back to him.  
"I'd offer to buy you a drink but-

"Yeah, no," he says rubbing his brow.

"I don't suppose you're interested in the Battlestar galactica marathon running?"

He snorts into his desk. "You know what? Screw it. Regal me with tales of the force."

"That's Star Wars, Jim," he snaps indignant.

"Whatever."  
He grabs his coat and they walk out together.


	3. Chapter 3

Kelly leans against the receptionist desk with a gleam in her eye.  
"Hey, have you guys noticed something strange going on with Jim lately?" She asks in a hush barely able to contain her excitement over this new piece of gossip.

"Like what?" Pam asks fidgeting with some paper clips.

"Like... something different." Kevin says slowly.

"Exactly! I think you like, broke him, Pam."

Pam's head snaps up. "I didn't do anything."

"C'mon, we totally know something happened between the two of you."

Kevin nods in agreement.

"Nothing happened--we're still friends."

"Well, now he's friends with Dwight too, which is so weird," she shudders.  
"Watch before you know it he's going to start wearing pocket protectors and, and like talking like, I don't even know what dorky things Dwight is into."

Pam chuckles. "That's ridiculous. Jim's still Jim. And he's so not friends with Dwight."

"You're jealous!" Kelly squeals.

"I am not." She defends. "Just because they're getting along better at work doesn't mean they're friends.  
It's not like they're hanging out together after or anything."

"So? You and Jim never hung out after work either."

"Please don't compare me and Dwight,"  
she cringes.

"Sorry," she laughs, turning as the  
door opens and Jim and Dwight walk in together.

"I knew she was a cylon." Jim says hanging his jacket up.

"Impossible." Dwight dismisses with a wave of his hand. "No one knew."

"Well I did."

"I thought you didn't even like the show. You complained the whole way through."

"I just don't like the camera work, all the zooming and shaking gives me a headache."

"Pansy."

 _"Pansy"_ Jim mimics.

"Dorks." Kelly coughs into her sleeve.

They turn to look at her and her eyes widen. "Hi," she smiles sweetly before scurrying away.

Dwight fiddles with his jacket sleeve,  
"So, you um, want to check out the 78 version tonight?"

"Where'd you get a 78 version?"

"Bootleg VHS," he murmurs looking around like he fully expects the police to jump out and bust him.

Jim snorts, "Nice."

"Yeah, so," he fiddles with his sleeve again, "you in?"

"Is Vocelli's on the table?" Jim asks raising a brow.

"Galactica without pizza is treason, Jim."

He smirks, "count me in then."

"Good, good, excellent," he coughs. "I'll uh, see you later then."

"Oh, probably," Jim agrees, eyeing their desks three feet away.

"What?" He asks noticing Pam staring.

"You and Dwight seem to be hitting it off lately."

"He's alright," he shrugs watching him argue with Phyllis over her newest air freshener.

She opens her mouth to say more but Michael comes barreling in and the morning begins.

***

"Check your e-mail." Dwight whispers.

"Stop." Jim says trying not to grin.

"Do it."

Jim opens his e-mail and snorts. "Man, stop, Michael might see."

His e-mail dings again and he has to slide a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing.

"What?" Dwight snaps.

Jim glances up to see him staring at Pam.

"You have shaving cream on your chin." She says after a minute.

He takes several swipes at his chin scowling. "Did I get it?"

Jim chuckles, "There was nothing there, man." He shakes his head at Pam.

***

"Turkey again, honestly, Jim you need to expand your palette." Dwight glares at Pam as she walks slowly by their table.

"I like consistency," he mumbles around a bite of sandwich.

Rolling his eyes Dwight leans across the table snatching the other half of Jim's sandwich and dunking it in his container of sauce.

"Hey!"

"Trust me."

Jim eyes him warily for a minute before slowly raising the sandwich to his mouth.

"That," he says slowly, "is actually pretty good. What is it?"

"Beetroot dip."

"Ah, gross! I knew you were going to say something like that," he wipes at his mouth.

"You just said it was good. Drama queen."

Jim bats his lashes.  
From the corner of his eye he notices Kelly watching them. He turns and she gives him a weird overly bright smile before leaning over to whisper to Pam.

Weird

"Did you hear me?" Dwight's asking.

Jim startles turning back around. "Hmm?"

**

Jim tosses his lunch bag in the trash dusting his hands, turning around he nearly crashes into Pam.

"Oh, whoops. Sorry."

"That's alright," she flushes.

"I'm just- he tries to step around her.

"Oh hey," she blurts catching his attention. "I um, finished some new paintings recently."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I think I might try submitting them this time."

He smiles "That's great."

"Yeah, and I was thinking maybe you'd like to have a look at them? After work maybe?"

"Yeah," he stammers rubbing his neck. "Sure. That sounds good."

"Okay great." She beams. "Later."

"Later," he repeats turning away with a smile.

**

"You want pineapple again tonight?" Dwight questions flipping off his computer.

"Yeah... about tonight, I cant make it. Pam asked me to look at some of her latest paintings.

"So?"

"So It's important to her."

"You promised, Jim."

"I know but she's thinking about submitting some and she really wants my opinion."

"Big deal. Dinner at my place. You promised."

"Dwight chill," he laughs. "We're not a couple."

"I got news for you, Jim," he says leaning In. "You're not a couple with Pam either."

***

"Hey," Pam smiles as he steps into the breakroom. "Do you mind?" She holds up a cd. "My mom sent it.

"No, go ahead." He runs a hand through his hair and pulls out a chair. "So, whatcha got?"

She turns the cd on and grabs her portfolio. "Okay, this one is one I did by the park."

He nods sliding it across the table. "Wow."

She bites her lip, "you think so?"

"Pam, really this is great. The greens and the blues, everything's so seamless."

"Thanks."

"I mean it, you should really submit this one."

She smiles looking him in the eye. "Thanks. I really appreciate you staying to look at them."

"Sure," he says softly.

She looks away clearing her throat, "oh, and, um this one." She slides another painting over.

"Just as beautiful," he promises.

"C'mon, Jim," she laughs. "You have to be constructive.

"The way the light touches the building reflecting it back to the sky really symbolizes man struggles with- Ow!

"Stop it!" She laughs smacking his arm again.

"I was trying to be helpful," he rubs his arm.

She smiles at him shaking her head.

The music lilting from the cd player switches tracks and a banjos strumming fills the room.

"Your mom's got great taste in music," he deadpans, sliding the cd case over. "Bluegrass bells. Definitely a winner."

"I know, could you imagine dancing your first dance to this?" she chuckles brushing a strand of hair back.

Jim goes silent, the cd case cracking under his thumb.

Noticing his distress Pam quickly stumbles over her words, "Sorry I shouldn't...

"Whatever," he shrugs playing it cool, tossing the case away. "You're just using me anyway."

A bit underhanded, but dang it what did she expect?

"Jim," she whispers.

He deflates, "look, I'm sorry."  
Inspite of everything he can't take that wounded look on her face.

"Maybe this was a bad idea," she murmurs.

"Yeah. I think, I think I'm just gonna go."

"Jim?" She calls when he reaches the door. "Are we gonna be alright?"

He's quite a minute, clenching the doorframe. "You'll be fine."

***

Dwight opens his door to find Jim on the other side, head bowed and shoulders slumped.

He regards him warily for a moment before taking pity and opening the door all the way.

"Thanks," he murmurs skulking to the sofa.

"Sure. I'll order the pizza now."

"You knew I'd show up, didn't you?" He asks tiredly, falling to the couch.

"She's going to marry Roy, Jim."

"I know."

***

"The pizza girl likes you."

"What?" Jim blinks turning his gaze from the television.

"Jenny. From Vocelli's?" She likes you.

"Oh."

"That's all you have to say? Idiot."

"What?"

"She's nice, she's pretty, and she has access to the best pizza this side of Chicago."

"I know, It's just this thing with Pam-

"There is no thing, Jim! Why can't you get that? Even cylons have better sense than you."

"Maybe," he murmurs tugging at a fray in his jeans.

Dwight sighs sitting back against the couch. "Sorry to be so blunt, I know you're hurting but you'll find someone else."

"What if I don't?"

"Then the gene pool will be spared."

"Jerk," Jim kicks his shin.

He laughs, "I'm still here."

"Oh be still my beating heart."

"Hey, you could do worse."

"Maybe," he laughs. "You have sauce on your face by the way."

"Yeah right, I'm not falling for that again."

Jim reaches over swiping his thumb along the side of his lip; he pulls away showing off the smear of sauce staining his thumb before popping it in his mouth.

"You. are. a disgusting human being Jim Halpert."

And he cant help it, for the first time in what feels like forever, he laughs long and hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... anybody wanna make beet dip and watch Galactica? 🙋 ...Anybody?


End file.
